Egg whites, baby formula, 5am training - but the kids are alright

Sepp Blatter, a man whose sense of diplomacy is rivalled only by that of Prince Philip, surpassed himself this month with his assertion that Cristiano Ronaldo is a 'slave' manacled by a master who won't set him free. Nobody's surprised when Mad-as-a-Blatter interfaces his foot with his mouth but his choice of vocabulary provoked reaction running from incredulous amusement to righteous anger. So last Tuesday's Olympic Dreams: Class of 2012 on BBC One makes you wonder how Sepp might describe the plight of the Romaeo children.

The premise of the show was to introduce young British sportsmen and women who may or may not have a part to play for the country when the London Olympics roll around. The potential for a Michael Apted-style documentary, where the kids are periodically revisited between now and the 2012 Games, is obvious - and Tom Daley, the 14-year-old diver who has already qualified for this summer's Beijing Games and whose father Rob had to take time away from ferrying him to and from practice in order to have a brain tumour operated on, is documentary TV gold. Tom (pictured below) was by no means the star of the show, though. Tony Romaeo dominated the programme like Vanessa Feltz dominates a running buffet.

Tony is a father with big plans for his children, and if their names (Romeo, Venus, Angel, Isis, Achilles and Caesar) are anything to go by, he has had big plans since the day each was born. You'd imagine Romeo (a 12-year-old boxer) and Venus (11, gymnast) would be the story, but the spectre of their father, stopwatch in one hand while he prepares the kids a 5am breakfast of egg whites and baby formula with the other, looms over their lives like Nosferatu in a tracksuit. Every time he opens his mouth, he redefines the term 'pushy parent'. He makes Joseph Jackson, Michael's father, look like a beginner.

'Quarter to five I get Romeo up. I decide what he does every day,' says Tony. What Romeo seems to do every day is eat, train, go to school, come home, train and go to bed. Should Romeo and Venus fail to live up to their father's ambitions (or requirements), Tony has a back-up plan: 'I've got other babies.' Having established that his expectations for Romeo and Achilles involve them becoming rich, famous world champion boxers, he has good news for Caesar: 'If Romeo and Achilles make it, there's no need for Caesar to get into sport. Especially not boxing.' Achilles is three years old, Caesar newborn. Heaven help you, Caesar, if your brothers fail and you'd rather be a hairdresser than a fighter.

I fretted about the Romaeo children all the next day. I wondered how much of a look-in they were likely to get in the running of their own lives, let alone in their appearance in a TV programme. And yet they all seemed like healthy, happy kids, unaffected and unquestioning. Cristiano Ronaldo may wish to compare his position with that of Romeo Romaeo, and wonder if he shouldn't be as happy.